An Endless Tide
by Ztin
Summary: AU. After his defeat, Trigon left a world in ruin. Cities remained devastated. Under a tenth of the planet's population was restored. Only four years later did hope return to a broken land... But on the distant horizon, Apocalypse is coming.
1. All Endings are the Same

Disclaimer: Anything or anybody you can recognize is not mine, they belong to their respective owners. That's probably DC and Marvel. I'm just using ideas and concepts. So let me repeat, I do not own anything but the plot. So stop suing.

A/N: Let's see where I'm gonna go with this.

**Prologue: **

**All Endings are the Same**

--

_Live well. It is the greatest revenge_. - The Talmud

--------

Sure, life is pretty good. Not living mind you, because some people are just unfortunate enough to have a pretty shitty living. Just life in general. You breathe, you run, you jump, you walk, you swim, you play, you fuck, you love, you sleep, you laugh, you smile, you birth, you whistle, you cook, you eat, you drink, you think, you imagine, you swear, you write, you read, you speak, you sing, you do, you dig? After all, all this stuff and more is what makes it all worthwhile to go from point A (the time you are brought out of the womb covered in placebo and other birthing fluids) to point Z (the second you end up permanently dead, reincarnation not included). Not only is it good it is pretty simple too. The difficult part of the timeline of life is those other twenty-four points (and often usually more), which we shall call our life-defining or changing moments, between A and Z. These moments are easily categorized under the headers of professional, social, personal and puberty.

Well at least it used to be just four categories. Since the world ended and was subsequently revived (though it is practically on life-support) "survival" pretty much defined itself as the fifth moment. The defeat of Trigon four years ago did not bring back peace and it did not undo the damage that occurred. The Earth remained scarred, battered, bruised and in most cases, crippled. The red skies returned to blue, the oceans of lava reverted back to water and the land teemed once again with vegetation.

Yet the cities remained broken.

All of humanities achievements and urban dwellings across the planet are still the skeletal husks during Trigon's short rule, from the sprawling metropolises to the tiniest of hamlets. Entire neighbourhoods are still a wasteland of rubble, skyscrapers are still missing floors and look like jagged spears against the skyline, streets are broken and uneven like cracked skin, monuments are no longer national prides but are painful reminders of a destroyed past and doors continually jammed. Damaged dams broke and caused flooding in areas of hundreds of miles submerging whole towns and drowning entire populations. Factories became hazard zones. Electrical power is almost practically non-existent. Medicine is a precious commodity. Food and water are constantly in short supply.

Cities can be rebuilt. Unfortunately lives cannot so easily.

Less than one-tenth of the world's population returned to life. For some survivors the one thing more terrifying than having being turned into stone is to be surrounded by those who have. Statues, statues, everywhere. Where there was once a person, there are now statues. Entire families endlessly sitting at a table for an untouched dinner. Babies holding tears in their eyes that will never be shed. Faces forever contorted in excruciating pain. Parents holding stone children, lovers holding stone lovers, wives with stone husbands, dogs licking stone faces.

Perhaps after the realization of a world set in stone finally sunk in, plans to save those still frozen would have been a priority if it had not been for the dozens of nuclear power plants that were critically damaged in Trigon's world. A quarter of an hour after Earth's reversion to blue and green, the entire planet became dotted with angry orange, red, white and grey mushroom clouds. What cities remained standing but were unfortunate enough to have damaged nuclear plants were quickly wiped out, erasing the lives of the survivors and all traces of the frozen population. Whole new diseases became widespread because of the chemical spills of factories and radioactive dust. Land became parched and dead. Strange beasts began appearing, some mutated animals, others formerly human, all carnivores.

Whole governed nations broke down when they saw their leaders set in stone. There are those who still talk about the senator found doing an impressive imitation of the Thinking Man statue on the seat of a toilet. The irony that he too was set in stone was not lost to them. So the people turned to their heroes knowing that in such times of crisis _they_ were the answers, _they_ would help them, _they_ could set things right, _they _were saviours.

Then the people finally discovered the pieces of the Man of Steel. It seems that unfortunately he was flying to stop some other minor crisis at the time he turned to stone. Statues are not known for flight. Then the madness set in. Whatever population remained whole panicked and screamed and feared and cried and went mad. They demanded answers. When they did not get any they went seeking it themselves. Communication broke down. The world ate itself up because when there is nothing identifiable to hate, hate everything identifiable.

Fear drove groups of people to madness, setting them upon a path of nomadic raiding, backstabbing and destruction. The darkest depths of the human soul were revealed the following months after Trigon. Murder, rape and thievery became as common as eating, sleeping and shitting. Small pockets of dictatorships sprung up in traditionally democratic countries. Fascism returned to central Europe, southern Asia and parts of the United States. People once disillusioned with their meagre beginnings became charismatic leaders urging their citizens to rise up against those responsible. Often this included anybody outside their society.

The world became a patchwork quilt of ever changing borders and realms of failures and chaos. People once again became valuable resources and slaves, both for labour and pleasure. There was no discrimination in facing the hardships of survival for both young and old. The planet was awash in the dark tide of Trigon's wake. It seemed that though he may not be physically here, his corrupting essence remained and seeded itself into the Earth's core infecting all who live and breathe. He left hell as a nice welcome back present. Not everybody is going to accept that.

There were more heroes around the world than anybody could have ever imagined, others emerging from behind the shadows. Extraordinary people who would not let their piece of the planet fall to corruption and decay they fought against the rising dark tide. Where they could, they offered some semblance of peace, law, order and justice. For four long years people fought and died to preserve a bit of humanity in a world gone to hell.

In one particular city remained a group of heroes who fought for the old ideals since the beginning. Though the world became dark and embittered they retained the impetuousness of youth never losing faith that there was something other than darkness in the human soul. They may have wavered, they may have been confused but they grew and matured to symbolize an unforgettable hope.

A girl once apprenticed to the greatest detective in the world.

A boy seeking redemption for the destruction unleashed by his fate.

A girl with the power of the animal kingdom.

A boy made of near-unstoppable steel.

A girl whose voice could move souls or break walls.

A girl who cannot touch.

There were others over time that, though are not with them now, still fights along side them.

An alien prince.

A girl made of technology.

A boy whose size does not matter.

A girl with the ocean at her command.

A boy with spider senses.

A girl who never misses.

A girl who sings and sparkles.

They are a motley crew that though are strange are also so beautiful inside because they could not relent.

The chaos calmed down and the people began to recover, as did the land. The long fight against the tide seemed almost over as civilization began to creep back into existence. Thoughts of bright future loomed ahead because after all, whoever heard of two apocalypses in a lifetime?

The truth is that nothing is impossible even if it is unthinkable.

-

--------

-

_Gasp_!

A sharp intake of breath. No air. No lungs. No need to breathe.

_Breath?_

As it contemplated the idea of breath, it realized its consciousness. It could think.

_Where_...

_What is it_?

The first thing its conscious mind could comprehend was the silence. Then it saw (_did it know?_) the nothing of blind darkness. And then it noticed the darkness illuminated by shadows. That was the only way its awareness could describe itself to its present surroundings. Understanding within the dream, a dream that was reality. It could walk with no feet and it could fly with no arms. All it is and ever was is a witness.

The witness (the consciousness?) floated for an eternal second before an unseen force drew it towards the brightest of the shadows. _Did force really exist?_

In this place it knew everything about the shadows because there was nothing to know. Shadows with a presence are only there because they are there.

_There. There. Here. Here. Here. Here_, because it is supposed to be as all are supposed to be.

There were two of them within a wall of darker figures stretching beyond the invisible horizon. They spoke of everything but were not talking. The consciousness (the spectre?) listened in on them and it could hear voices echoing in the place with no walls. Words that made no sense but it could understand. It paid attention because it knew nothing else.

"_... his time came... and it... has passed. The Tides now passes... to another._" The sound was young and soft like a breeze. But there was no life behind its words.

"_Yet the Scientist still exists for he is eternal. As long as the spawn lives so shall the prophecy._" This voice was old and thunderous. It was controlled and spirited with anger. "_His time did come yet it is not over. His presence is of the highest Tide._"

"_It... matters not. The laws can... not... be broken. Shall... all the waves... stop... before brushing... the shore... all because one... cannot recede? Impossible. Improbable. Impractical. The waves... must... continue to flow. There is... no other way._"

A newborn infant will cry out of need even though it does not know of what it needs. It just understands. The spectre (the awareness?) struggled because it felt the same instincts (_was itself a newborn? Must contemplate later_). It could not let them continue. It did not want them to continue. It did not want to hear them anymore because as it listened, it began to fear.

"_Thus his tide will continue upon the Pharaoh's beginning._" A statement, voiced with finality.

The words were merely sounds within the darkness but the awareness (the figure?) could feel the pounding of inevitability. _Inevitability_? _How did it know what that meant?_ In this plane of its current awareness it knew only the intent of the sounds of the shadows. They could not hurt it. They could not destroy it. They could do nothing but be part of the dream because they did not exist. So, why was it so scared?

"_It... is... so... because the spawn... has made it... so._"

"_The Pharaoh also possesses the time of a High Tide._"

"_...Yes..._"

An unseen smile that though could not be seen could still be felt. It was so cold (_could shadows smirk?_), "_Did you forget? No, of course not you. Never you._" (_Can shadows stop smiling?_), "_ Never more than one, never less than none, that too is the law._"

Silence.

Silence.

And then.

"_... An... Endless... Tide._"

"_Yes, an Endless Tide. But enough, he has listened long enough. Let him see now and let him learn._"

The figure (the mind?) knew it could not hide when the shadows without faces turned towards it, so it did not. The mind (the soul?) knew it could not run away when the shadows with no form grew bigger beyond the universal proportions the closer they got, so it stayed still. The soul (the end?) knew of inevitability when the shadows that encompassed everything began to split open into a red horizon stretching beyond sight, so it accepted. The end screamed amongst the chaos of the swallowing shadows and roaring crimson.

-

--------

-

The Four Eyes smouldered.

The world burned hotter. In this place, the dark shadows and blazing sin bled together upon the dead earth that had stretched beyond universal measurements. Infernal rivers exploded high into the crimson sky only to fall and cover the land over a thousand lifetimes. The fires of a thousand consumed stars devoured all only to extinguish and then ignite a thousand more dead stars. Where there was never an End, Infinity ruled the land.

The Four Eyes raged.

Time became both standstill and faster. Floating continents that covered the sky, like an all-encompassing roof of falling earth, dipped and soared like deranged bird beasts. The ground that always moved bucked and hurled itself as if in its death throes, creating mile high tidal waves of liquid land. Up, that was always down, became left and right. Shadows became brighter than the light from flames. Fire began to freeze all it touched and ice began to burn all it overwhelmed. Where there was never Order, Chaos ruled the laws.

The Four Eyes hated.

The screams grew louder. The denizens of the Nine Hells cried for their lord, his pain becoming theirs, his sorrow breaking their spirits, his hate fuelling theirs. The ghosts of sin, the incorporeal hated, the murderous dead, the fallen ones and the damned. The giants, the beasts, the demons, the humanoids, the monstrous, insignificant, the intelligent and the mindless. The Overlords, the Abishai, the Cutiatu, the Imps, the Fell, and the unlimited number more of warring clans. Millions perish and billions more are born. Where there was never Peace, Destruction ruled history.

The Four Eyes smouldered. The Four Eyes raged. The Four Eyes hated. The Four Eyes planned. The Four Eyes smiled. The Nine Hells screamed.

-

--------

-

On a marble of a blue-green planet, on a broken coast, in a broken city, in a broken tower, came a broken cry.


	2. Drum Roll: Something for Later

A/N: In case you didn't know some characters have been genderbendered.

**Drum Roll:**

**Something for Later**

-+-

The mountains rose like teeth trying to bite through the soft underbelly of passing clouds. Powdered peaks like sugared icing turned dark purple and hazy orange as they reflected the sun sinking into the vast ocean. The curtain of dying light covered and retreated from the city that lay nestled between the bases of the mountain range. As if trying to cover up a bad mistake the surrounding basin looked as if it were trying to swallow the town and disappear in an upheaval of earth and water. When night came, it came fast.

Once upon a time electrical lights would have illuminated the sprawling mass of carefully laid concrete. Lights upon lights upon lights upon lights upon lights with some glowsticks thrown in for good measure. Dim lights, bright lights, small lights, patterned lights, flashing lights, white, yellow, red, blue, green, purple as if trying to become the very model of the light spectrum. The city was made even brighter by the reflection of glass that seemed to compose all of its skyscrapers. There were buildings that rose from the ground to kiss the sky, of designs that rivalled Renaissance Europe, of such technological and architectural intricacy to prove mind-boggling. There were neighbourhoods, schools, hospitals, factories, workshops, a theme park, harbours, an airport, highways, bridges, a dam, a reservoir and farms. If anything it could have been self-sustaining had it not been the cause of the shit hitting the fan.

People once lived carefree in the city. They were blissful because they were ignorant. They worked hard (others play hard), building up an incredible industrial infrastructure to make it one of the most important economies in the country, rivalling other traditional big time cities like Metropolis and Gotham. The citizens were for the most part friendly, always smiling and thankful to be in such bright town. Even those who were of little means and possessions were proud of a welfare system that actually worked and they gave as much back to the city as they could.

During the day, people shopped, played and danced. They went to the malls that were always filled with other shoppers and bargain hunters and it was a common thing to bump into someone you either knew personally or through a friend of a friend of a friend. They ate at five-star restaurants and fast-food joints, from atop rotating towers to back alley cafés. The sidewalks that laced the city were never devoid of pedestrians and always empty of litter. The green parks often had a group of people having friendly sporting events and if the wind was just right one could look up anywhere into the sky and see a flying kite. There was always laughter because even at night the city teemed with life. They dined, they partied and they loved.

Indeed Jump City was a nice place to live.

But once upon a time is _once_ upon a time.

Like a delicate popsicle stick model that was shaken too hard the city had become nothing but desolation, jagged silhouettes and lost effort. Though the Jump City Nuclear Power Facility was a small one in comparison to others, a meltdown would have been enough to atomize five hundred square miles. By some small favour of fate, the power plant's automatic contingency program activated to prevent a meltdown. There are some who believe that that was no saving grace but an act of punishment. Maybe it would have been better if everything had been eradicated. Maybe life would have been a great hit if there was not a sequel.

All that the city once was became opposite of everything it held dear. It was not just neighbour fighting neighbour but also family selling family. Mercy is for those who do not wish to survive. For some, one comforting fact is that they were not alone but that the rest of the world accompanied Jump City on it reduction to shit. To recall the city during the days following the Breaking is to fall into madness. To describe the years after is to descend into debauchery.

Because only now have people begun to regain some semblance of sanity and the desire to forget past sins is strong. The city realized that no federal assistance, no God, no cavalry is going to pull their asses out of the fire. So the denizens fallen to depravity once again sought to become citizens of a not so psychotic sort. They worked together to grow food. They built shelters together. They mated because they would not let humanity fade out. Now the only light to emit in the city comes from rationed power generators and any sputtering torches people cared to have lit. Far from the neon spectacle of past years but still, any light is bright in the darkness. So people began to smile a little bit more. What was once a nice place to live was a hellhole to dig out of.

But just because the past is behind them does not mean that it cannot catch up. As Jump City ever so slowly assembled a bit of order day by day it could never shake itself free of its ghosts.

-

-----+----

-

The Jump City docks, for the most part remained intact. As in it did not sink beneath the waves and instead only suffered neglect and broken walls. Still the lack of trade coming into the city left the warehouse dock area barren as supplies were intensely scavenged for during the first few months after the Breaking. Only the waterfront area is used daily now by fishermen and other related trades. Few, if any, people came to these buildings now as they had been plucked clean, all though the occasional visitor is not unheard of.

A sudden gust of wind fluttered the hair of the lone figure perched upon one largely undamaged building by the bay upon its roof's ledge. She was not worried about being noticed nor did it matter if she was. The building is old and had been abandoned long before anybody was left to abandon it anyways. Letting the wind whip the black locks about her face she gazed silently upon the bay and its kaleidoscope of black, purple and orange shades. She is crouched and perfectly still and if it were not for the colour of her blue and black uniform would have been easily taken as one of the thousands of statues still intact around the city.

A soft mewling broke the tranquillity of the scene. Only if one were closely observing the figure would notice the ever so slight twitch of her left ear as acknowledgement of the sound. She moved her head only ever so slightly downwards. Despite the pitch blackness of the alley below her she furrowed her eyebrows ever so slightly on one location, as if she could see in the dark. Some say that she can. The alley floor was cracked and at one end of the alleyway was a wider split in the ground where a light smoke seemed to drift up from.

On one side lying against the opposite wall was the rusted frame of what used to be an Oldfolksvagan Beetle. Its new occupation as a not so mobile home became apparent by the slight movement from inside. A tabby can be seen lazing on its side as a full litter of fuzzy kittens scrambled, swatted, gently pushed and softly crooned for a hit on their mother's teat.

An entire litter of cats surviving in the city was a rare occurrence indeed, perhaps marking a good omen of some kind.

_Or maybe it is just a full family of cats to feed a full family of people._

The bird shaped mask upon her face hid the colour of her eyes but could not deny the beauty of her face. Yet the first people notice is not her graceful feature but the always present raw determination especially prevalently set in her mouth. As she had for the past few weeks her focus remained upon the setting sun dip into the waves. At first glance it would seem as if she were there to enjoy the view (because honestly who does not enjoy sunsets?) but to those who know her understand that she was not there to really take in the wonder of mother nature's light show.

She was waiting for the damn thing to stop shining the sky.

When the last of the sun's rays streaked beyond the horizon Nightwing tilted her head upwards towards the stars.

No other movement, no sound, no sigh, no uplifting the corners of her mouth. Other than her short wind-whipped hair her presence remained motionless.

_Thump. Thump._

Stillness.

_Thump. Thump._

Stillness.

The heart beat a little louder.

-

----+----

-

The monuments and tourist attractions that made up the face of Jump City were all reduced to ruin. They seemed fit to be seen as if they were rediscovered archaeological structures instead of surviving end of the world events. Except one. At least barely. On a small protrusion on the northern part of the bay rose an odd T-shaped tower. Before in all its shiny splendour it would have made quite an impression both for its formation and its purpose. Now the glamour is dimmed by the construction evident at the towers cross section.

Someone once made the comment that the large section that caved in looked to have a butt imprint. A rather large ass.

Frankly there has been general agreement that Trigon was indeed a really big asshole.

The Tower for the most part remained intact and so they chose to strengthen that symbolism. It took time and precious resources but bit by bit, Titans Tower recovered to achieve all its former glory. A memorial for ideals past. A bastion against crime. A Gibraltar to lawlessness.

"All right, who's the summbitch that left the toilet seat up?"

And a home to heroes.

-

----+----

-

Garden Logan was not a happy green elf. No sir, not at all. A great wrong has been done to her. Once again the sanctified and sacred room that holds a porcelain throne had been defiled. The toilet seat was not in its standard position of readily accepting any incoming posterior. Normally this would not have irritated her had it not been _her_ favourite bathroom. The one with the yellow-blue tiles.

"There's gonna be a reckoning," muttered the irate female.

She stalked her way through the dimly lit halls in search of the one most likely responsible. While the corridors of the tower would certainly be classified as slightly gloomy due to the weakness of the lights, compared to four years ago they are a significant improvement. Beastgirl certainly decided she was not going to be the first one to complain about a little light when there could have been no lights. Seems there are benefits to having a generator that runs infinitely on Cyborg's spare batteries.

'_course it'd be nice if Fixit could finally get to work on my PlayCube Box._

If there's one thing that cemented Beastgirl's belief in miracles it is the complete survival of the Titans common room, more specifically the jumboscreen television. Too bad the same could not be said of cable.

When Beastgirl stalked into the room here eyes took on a predatory look, literally turning into a green eagle for a moment, as she zoned in on the lone figure sitting on the couch. The girl with shoulder-length red hair remained totally oblivious to Beastgirl's presence, as she seemed totally immersed in a book.

"Ahem," humphed Beastgirl.

No reaction from the other girl. A page flips.

"Ah-hem."

"...," Another page flips.

"Her-umph."

"...,"

"AH- HEMH!"

"...," Flip.

Beastgirl hung her head down in dejection and made to turn away.

"...,"

Flip.

"**_RROOAOAOAORRR,_** DUDE!" bellowed a lion that pounced atop the coffee table in front of the redhead.

A split second before the startled girl was going to scream Beastgirl thought _Oops_.

"**YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAHHHHHHH**!"

Normally a regular cry of fright would hardly have any sort of effect on Beastgirl in the form of a lion. Unfortunately Siryn's voice is best known for other things besides winning a karaoke contest.

SHHHHWWWWW-PLAP!

In a tribute to comedy it seems Beastgirl was blasted clear across the room to plaster herself face first into the opposite wall. Complete with a slight body flattening end product.

"Oh geez, Garden! Geez, geez, geez, geez, are yeh OK?" Siryn's face a picture of concern as she ran up to the green elf that was slowly peeling backwards from the wall.

Siryn helped Beastgirl up and led her towards one of the couches that was not turned over by concussive scream. Laying Beastgirl down across the couch, Siryn quickly went to the kitchen, wetted a towel and placed it atop the green girl's forehead where imaginary blue birds where circling it.

"Uuuhh... don't thank me citizens... that Tazmanian Devil didn't stand a chance!"

"Huh?" a puzzled look gracing Siryn's features.

"Ah boogle lahe sshplutz!"

Sighing, Siryn was nonetheless relieved to see clarity replacing Beastgirl's dazed eyes. Sitting herself back down on the couch Siryn picked up the book that she dropped, voicing her displeasure at Beastgirl's antics, "Geez, what were yeh thinkin' yeh crazy green airhead. I could've popped yuir ears out like a spite bubble. What're yeh doin' scaring me like that?"

Shaking her head clear Beastgirl remained reclined while sounding indignant, "What'd you mean I'm the crazy airhead? Dude, you're the one lost in some whacked out la-la land trying to smoosh innocent little green girls into avocado juice just for trying to grab your attention. I mean what just happened was just totally unprovoked. Seriously un-cool."

Siryn rolled her blue eyes, "OK, first off if yeh want to count yuirself as an 'innocent' green gal, yeh might want to try dressin' the part."

Frowning, Beastgirl spread her arms wide while looking down at herself, "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Cocking her eyebrow Siryn appraised her friend's current attire. The changeling's uniform was a tight black and purple two piece outfit. The sleeveless top piece covered her entire chest area, revealing her smooth shoulders and arms, ending just below her ribs where it pointed out into thin black strip to connect with the low riding fang patterned spandex looking shorts, leaving her hips and stomach area bare in all their green glory, leaving a teasing hint of her pelvic region. The pants stopped above mid thigh and on her feet were black and purple skater shoes. No shoe laces though, just velcro.

"Aw, c'mon, you know this is the only stuff I can wear that'll morph with me."

"And the fact that it doesnae cover yuir entire body?" Siryn said trailing off suggestively.

Beastgirl put her right hand in front of her, as if examining her fingernails poking through fingerless black and purple gloves, responded, "There wasn't enough material."

"Uh-huh," though the redhead did not sound convinced at all.

"Really, there wasn't."

"Of course. What about the spiked choker?"

"What, am I not allowed some jewellery?"

"Oh, that's fine after all I'm partial to them meself. Then what about those two pony tails atop yuir head that yeh did yuir hair in? Nothing says 'innocent' more ironically than..."

"All right, all right!" Beastgirl interrupted, "I get the point, just do NOT diss the hair, Terry, cuz that's just trudging on dangerous territory. C'mon, y'know I'm so short that I gotta flash at least a little skin to grab a guy's attention. They are such pigs but what's a girl supposed to do?"

Theresa Cassidy snorted, "Garden, I'm only an inch taller than yeh and I've heard enough perverted comments out on the streets about 'wut me fine arse could do fer others,' and I go outside revealin' only the skin o' me face!" indicating her own outfit consisting of a dark green leather long-sleeved top and pants that flared out at the bottom. Over top she wore a bottle green bomber jacket and had on black high heeled boots.

"Yea, but you're an inch taller."

Before Siryn could retort, Beastgirl continued, "Anyways that's not the point, cuz the point is that you plastered me against the wall like a booger when you're the one who won't answer for your crimes!"

"What're yeh talkin' about?" Siryn said confused.

"Oh ho, don't you try to deny that you've committed sacrilege."

"Once again, what the hell are yeh jabberin' about?"

"The bathroom on the 8th floor with the yellow-blue tiles! That wonderful place that is both woman's sanctuary and room of relief! My comfort zone! My holy relic has been dishonoured! The toilet seat has been left up!" Beastgirl stated triumphantly as if expecting Siryn to break down and confess her crimes.

"...,"

"Well?"

"Grr..." Siryn grumbled softly in exasperation at her friends bewildering obliviousness.

"What? It's OK, take your time admitting your guilt."

In a patient, though slightly strained voice Siryn answered, "Garden, sweetie, I'm a lady just like yeh."

"Uh-huh, so?" Beastgirl said, still not getting it.

"I've been a lady since birth."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that I, too, would only do anything of a lady's private nature if the toilet seat is left down."

"...,"

"...,"

"Oh... yeah," a faint purple blush appearing on a thoroughly embarrassed cheeks, "Heheh, my bad," Beastgirl said, one hand behind her head, her other in the peace sign and a big bashful grin on her face.

Siryn merely shook her head, "Yeh crazy green airhead."

"Yes, she is," a voice manifested itself near the entrance to the common room, both young women turning towards the newcomer, "And also annoying."

Grinning cheekily, Beastgirl spoke to the person emerging into the light of the room, "Ooh, c'mon Raven, I know you're just teasing. You love being around me."

The pale sorcerer cocked one eyebrow up, "Of course, just as much as I enjoy the constant buzzing of mosquitoes in my ear. Both of them. All day. All night."

"Aw, ya big meanie!" Beastgirl pouted, her pointy ears drooping down comically while Siryn chuckled in the background.

"Heheh, that was probably the gurl turnin' into one from before. Speakin' from experience now, are we, Raven?"

He gave a slight smirk in Siryn's direction while Beastgirl stuck her tongue out at her friend's comment.

Choosing to ignore Beastgirl's facial antics, Siryn looked at Raven said, "Yeh all right there, fella? Yeh kinda look like shite."

Instantly switching from playful to concerned Beastgirl, who's ears instantly perked up, peered more closely at the dark young man, particularly the evident bags under his eyes. Even his skin, while normally a pale grey was now near downright shady pale, "She's right Raven, are you having trouble sleeping again?"

Raven replied to the girl's worried question in a reflexive tone, "Don't worry, it's nothing I cannot handle."

In truth, he had been having trouble sleeping for the past week, the disturbing dreams having reappeared. He could never recall what they were about or conjure up any images but they always left him with a feeling of finality and apprehension. They never left on a good note. In fact, he is glad that he cannot remember what they were about because deep down he knew that would be a mistake to his sanity. Even though the lack of sleep was tiring him, he knew that soon enough the dreams would stop occurring and he would be free from them for another month or so, just as it has happened every single time for the past two years.

"Are you sure?" Beastgirl insisted.

"Yes, I told you so stop worrying," came the touchy reply.

Raven sighed inwardly when Beastgirl's ears drooped slightly. Logically he could not fault her for her concern. It was amazing that he pulled through after the Breaking despite his emotional state and he has only begun truly recovering over a year ago. Those first few months were hell for his teammates to see what he was going through and he swore never to put them through that again.

When Beastgirl tentatively reached up to touch his arm, he gently grasped her hand with his own.

_Never again._

Raven spoke quietly and firmly while still holding Beastgirl's hand, "Trust me, it's nothing like before. It'll be OK."

Though she still felt a bit of a reservation, Beastgirl nodded slightly, accepting his response for the time being. Raven, seeing the determination in the elf's eyes, said, "You're still going to tell Nightwing, aren't you?"

"Duh, of course, dude."

Raven gave a small nod, knowing that the Titans leader would have eventually noticed his slightly fatigued appearance sooner or later. Beastgirl gave a small smile at Siryn who also looked as if the matter was far from being finalized.

Suddenly turning about to face Raven who had let go of her hand, Beastgirl narrowed her bright green eyes in thought.

"Yes?" Raven asked, looking back with his own passive violet gaze.

"You... you male!" accused Beastgirl while Siryn covered her mouth to smother her own laughter.

Raven's face remained neutral when he replied, "Yes, thank you for clearing that up for me."

"You pee standing up! Blasphemer!"


End file.
